


A special kind of meeting

by Elysandra



Category: Sanctuary (TV)
Genre: Always, F/M, Kink, PWP, Smut, it's all about control
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-09
Updated: 2014-11-09
Packaged: 2018-02-24 17:00:07
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,048
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2589281
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Elysandra/pseuds/Elysandra
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Helen wants a meeting. It's not a booty call, of course.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A special kind of meeting

**Author's Note:**

  * For [khudgens91](https://archiveofourown.org/users/khudgens91/gifts).



> This is for khudgens91, who challenged me (and herself! I highly recommend reading her story 'Looking for Punishment' - it's awesome!) to write a certain scene with certain props. Hope you like this version, Kat! (I'm so not going to mention how many rewrites I did XD).

His Helen is really good with words, she knows exactly how to use them. The loveliest of sweet-talk, dirty talk par excellence - she’ll give you exactly what you need, or deserve.

Her text messages, though, tend to be rather short and to the point.

 

_My office at nine. H._

 

Granted, this time it’s one of the particularly abrupt variety. Nikola has gotten used to getting those. It usually means he’s messed up - or, rarely enough, that Helen is looking for distraction but doesn’t want to admit it. Since Nikola can’t think of anything or any way he might have messed up recently - not too badly, at least - this after-dinner meeting in Helen’s office has the thrilling potential for something ‘more’. Eyes glinting, Nikola closes the message and, after having yet another look at his lock screen, puts his phone away. The pictures he takes of Helen when she isn’t paying attention make the most beautiful backgrounds for his phone. Until Helen discovers them, that is, at which point he has to start prowling for new opportunities. 

Pondering how many days he may have left with the current one - the glasses look really cute, but somehow these pictures seem to last even shorter than the rest - Nikola shuts down his equipment, flipping switches and pressing buttons until silence surrounds him. He tends to skip dinner, but an extra bit of ‘preparation time’ with Helen can’t hurt tonight, a chance to test the waters, so to speak.

Dinner, though he won’t be caught dead admitting it, is actually fun. Most of that fun, of course, comes from the narrowed eyes he gets for the way Helen’s and his hand seem to brush against each other all the time tonight - completely by accident, of course. Another welcome game is guessing the time it takes for the twitching of her lips to contradict the way she roles her eyes at his flirtatious comments. The way her lips part and her eyes lose focus for the blink of an eye when he uses his magnetic abilities is a welcome distraction as well, especially since it’s followed instantly by an exasperated admonishment. In the end, there are far more indulgent smiles than cracks in her self-control, but that is to be expected. Nikola counts the fact that Helen vanishes from the room right after the last clink of porcelain as a win.

He leans back with a silent toast and gives her the time it takes him to sip another glass of wine; not pursuing her speaks louder than any comment he could come up with. Instead, he indulges in his by now old hobby of throwing snarky remarks at the children when they decide to bring out the ice-cream. They’re sitting ducks at mealtime, it’s almost too easy.

~~~

The old grandfather clock two corridors down chimes nine just as Nikola strolls into Helen’s office. The scene is quite familiar, they’ve met for one of their more or less regular budget discussions only yesterday, after all. They even finished that one, unlike many other meetings. While he has a tendency to try and distract Helen when he’s bored, there is no way he’d ever cut their budget discussions short. Their outcome is inevitably disappointing, but forcing Helen to deny him money usually makes her more pliable to other ‘demands’. Pliable, of course, is a relative term with Helen.

‘Pliable’ Helen is sitting behind her desk, working, looking all sleek and professional in that suit that Nikola has studied rather closely at dinner. The lovely sight has him reach for his phone to try and take a picture, almost habitually by now. He slips the phone right back in his pocket when Helen looks up almost at the same time - no picture then. He seems to have been quick enough, for Helen closes the folder she’s been reading, caps her pen and places it delicately on top of the off-white paper without commenting on his new hobby.

“Nikola. Thank you for being punctual.”

The greeting is warm but short, her no-nonsense voice sexy as always.

“Your message sounded... urgent,” he says with a little shrug, and is awarded the Raised Eyebrow when he closes the door and locks it.

“That’s hardly necessary, Nikola.”

“On the contrary, Helen.”

He crosses the room under her watchful eyes, not even attempting to hide exactly what his attention is currently focused on. Helen looks poised, her back straight, hands folded primly on the folder she’s just closed, but it’s the delightful way in which her moss green suit jacket strains over her breasts that has caught his eye. Above it, a black floppy bow tie adorns her decollete, the tips just long enough to lie nestled between her breasts. Its softness contrasts the strict cut of her suit, just like the warmth in her eyes contradicts her businesslike voice.

“Have a seat, Nikola.”

Ah yes, so he was right, it’s a ‘I’m not horny and I did not make a booty call, at all’ day. Keeping up the pretence, Helen doesn’t move until he reaches her desk, but stands to face him when he walks around it instead of sitting down in one of the chairs.

“I like your bow tie,” Nikola says, flicking one of the bows.

“I guessed as much. You’ve been staring at it all through dinner.”

“I bet it’s long enough for another kind of tie as well.”

Helen roles her eyes and slaps his hand.

“So predictable.”

“Don’t tell me you haven’t thought about it.”

“Not at all.”

Letting bow tie be bow tie, Nikola reaches to open one of the large buttons on her jacket instead.

“That would be very disappointing.”

Helen attempts to slap him again, but he catches her hand and brings it up to nip at the soft skin of her wrist, using her distraction to fiddle with the next button.

“If I believed you, that is.” He smirks against the quickened pulse under his lips. “It’s been far too long since I tied you up.”

“Three days isn’t long, Nikola,” Helen states, using her free hand to push Nikola’s jacket over his shoulder until he lets go of her wrist to shed it. He throws it over the back of her desk chair, then pushes the chair aside before turning back to Helen. She’s leaning against her desk, watching him, her fingers idly playing with the buttons on her jacket as if to prove that she’s in no hurry whatsoever.

With a growl, he catches her wrists, crowding Helen against her desk to keep her in place while he moves her hands behind her back and gathers them in one of his, knowing full well what that does to her.

“Nikola!”

And yes, there’s that faint hoarseness in her voice he’s been waiting for.

Helen glares at him and fights against his hold, but vampiric strength gives him the advantage and she’d have to take this a lot more seriously to break free. She doesn’t, gives in instead at the way their position forces them so close together, and moves her hips against his, her glare turning defiant. She’s struggling half-heartedly when Nikola opens the remaining buttons on her jacket, but there’s really nothing she can do to stop the lapels from falling open. The sight has him groan, and threatens his control more effectively than any move Helen could have made.

“Helen...”

“Surprise.” Helen smirks as Nikola reaches up to palm a bare breast, her already hard nipple pressing into his skin. Nikola kneads the soft globe and Helen leans into his touch, having gained ground. “Though I intended to make you wait quite a bit longer. Cheeky, impatient, demanding vampire!”

“Who, me?” He plays his part, but, really, he is quite distracted right now.

“There was barely time to change after dinner,” he points out slowly, still trying to evaluate the idea, slowly rolling the perky nipple between the knuckles of his fingers and she bites her lip to suppress a reaction, not about to give up her advantage.

“Very observing.”

She hasn’t just gained ground, she’s gained the upper hand, but there’s only one thing on his mind right now.

“ _Did_ you change?”

And now Helen is smirking, and pulling her hands from his miraculously loose grip. She’s playing with the buttons on his shirt in that fake-innocent way that has Nikola want to throw her on her desk and have his way with her, right this very instant. She’d definitely count that as a win, though, and he’s not distracted enough to allow that.

“That’s for me to know and for you to fantasise about.”

He can’t help the growl that rumbles through his throat at that. “Minx!”

Helen’s smirk grows, making words unnecessary, and it is definitely time to get the upper hand again.

“So, I’m demanding, hm?” He circles the by now swollen nipple with the tip of his finger, then twists the nub to hear Helen moan, even as she tugs at his shirt, trying to get it out of his trousers, to get to his skin, token resistance forgotten.

“Quite.” She’s successful after deciding to let buttons be buttons and reaching for the lapels, pulling hard. The shirt rips open and at least two buttons shoot like stray projectiles across the room. Nikola chuckles and Helen pushes the cloth aside for her hands to roam across his chest, turning his amusement into a needy sigh; he can never get enough of her hands on his chest. Red lines from her nails have him shiver even as they vanish, barely seconds old, and sometimes he wishes he could wear her mark.

“Whereas you are patience personified,” he observes. He echoes Helen’s earlier move and pushes her jacket over her shoulders, baring her further, far enough for her hands to stop their exploration as she wriggles to get out of it. It’s a most enticing sight, the way her breasts jiggle with the movement of her shoulders. He really hasn’t counted on having her this naked this soon tonight. Seizing the moment, Nikola takes hold of her hips, fingers splayed across the naked skin of her waist, and leans in to nuzzle her neck above the collar-like black cloth - an image that’s worth much closer consideration, much later. Right now, Helen’s breasts rub against his chest from her attempt to shed the jacket restricting her movements, all the while she’s caught between her desk and Nikola’s body, assaulted by his lips, and feeling his hands work on the fly of her trousers on top of everything else. Overloading her with sensation is one of Nikola’s most reliable strategies - provided he manages to get close enough.

He’s very much close enough right now.

Helen’s heartbeat quickens audibly, to him at least. Her breaths grow shorter and her pupils dilate, and Nikola hides his satisfaction against her skin.

“You’re such a sweet, patient, undemanding person,” he declares into the hollow at the base of her throat, breathing in the intoxicating scent of her warm skin, and Helen seems to have freed at least one arm because he feels a bare arm slip around his waist right before nails dig into his back and pull him closer to her.

“You know me so well, Nikola,” she coos, breathless, husky.

Her body rocks against him as she shakes her arm to get rid of the clingy piece of clothing without losing her grip on him. Unwilling to break the contact and fully prepared to use any excuse to feel her skin under his lips, Nikola sinks his teeth into her shoulder, causing them to moan in unison. Helen drops her head onto her shoulder, baring her neck to him, and he uses his nose to brush away a few stray locks still obstructing his access, sucks at the mark he has left three days ago. As quickly as bruises fade on Helen’s skin, his teeth marks always seem to stay longer than normal. Helen moans again, she always does, and her hands tangle in his short hair, holding his head in place.

“Definitely well enough to know how close to begging you are right now,” Nikola teases, kissing and licking the reddened skin. His hands are busy working on Helen’s trousers, and the fourth and final button gives way just as Helen’s grip on his hair tightens painfully.

“I am not!” she protests hotly, pressing his head even closer. The sting of her grip is delicious, so he allows it, and because he can make her gasp when _his_ hand slips straight between her soft, swollen folds.

“God, Nikola...”

Having nuzzled his way under one of the bows brushing low against her breastbone, Nikola muffles his needy groan against her skin, managing to turn the sound into a strained chuckle at the lack of a barrier his fingers encounter - even though there’s definitely silk somewhat higher up - and at the copious wetness easing their way. For all her protesting, Helen is obviously not willing to wait for anything right now, not with the way her hips rock against his hand and her back arches to press her chest harder against his exploring lips. Nikola is painfully hard himself by now, and this is getting very close to torture.

Nikola’s finger sinks into her, testing her tightness, her reaction, and he almost loses it at the heat engulfing his hand and the way her hips rock harder against him at the intrusion, urging him deeper.

“No teasing,” Helen demands with a moan, her hand leaving his hair to lean back on her elbow, and he follows willingly. Her other hand continues raking up and down his back with urgent need, desperate to get him closer, ever closer. Her leg comes up, the slender heel of her pumps digging into his calf. But, quite uncharacteristically, feeling her leg around his is the last thing Nikola wants right now. There’d be no way to get rid of those beautiful but currently highly annoying trousers with her leg clinging to him, and he’s got his priorities more than straight. Nikola pulls back, because she’s getting far too demanding anyway, and smirks at her disappointed mewl before hooking his finger in a belt loop on her waistband and pulling her upright and with him.

“No teasing? No subtle hinting at what I could do to you once I get you out of your oh so _proper_ clothes?” he asks, pushing those proper, proper trousers down long legs to reveal a very much not proper, black garter belt holding up the black tops of very fine, very sheer stockings.

“You don’t do subtle,” Helen scoffs. She daintily steps out of her trousers, kicking them aside and leaving him to stare at the shiny black fuck-me-pumps he’s been unable to fully appreciate at dinner due to the length of those trousers. Trousers that hide her pumps, a jacket that hides her otherwise unhidden assets - his woman is mean, and evil, and full of wonderful surprises today. Like the pumps, which are high, shiny, and black. And really high...

“No getting lost in thought, either,” Helen’s voice pulls Nikola out of his mental worshipping and, right, he was working on keeping the upper hand. The way Helen reaches for his shirt and pulls him into a deep kiss does a fantastic job in helping him focus, too, because it’s so not her place tonight to act this brazen, not when she’s all needy and begging for his attention. Maybe he should have insisted on tying her up, after all. But the evening is still young, and all of him is focused now, on catching her lip between his teeth and biting down until she moans, until her hands gripping his ass, hard, become soft and pliant, return to his shoulders and massage his neck, hoping to appease.

“Play nice, or I _will_ make you beg,” Nikola drawls against her lips after breaking the kiss, eyes closed and listening to her ragged breathing. He presses her harder against the desk to let her feel the effect she has on him, to impress upon her who is in charge tonight, because apparently he hasn’t been clear enough before. Judging by her moan and the way her hips try to rub against his, Helen understands his message perfectly.

She tilts her head and nips lightly at Nikola’s jaw, looking up into his eyes as her hands move down his front to open his belt under his watchful gaze. Her eyes are dark and glinting and sending heat through his veins, and _that_ smile appears on her lips that tells him things are about to get really, really good.

“We’ll see who’ll be begging first!”

Her voice is all husky, and not the deliberate husky but the way it gets when Nikola is doing something very right. He blames that tone for the fact that he loses track of what she’s doing. It’s just for a second, but apparently long enough for her to open the button and even the zipper on his trousers, because her hand closes around him in a confident way that has Nikola croak “you bet” without any trace of the arrogance he aimed for. Damn this woman, every time he thinks he has her where he wants her...

He grabs a handful of hair, completely ruining the careful arrangement, and pulls hard enough to see the smile on her lips give way to something else, something dark, heated. He reaches down and takes hold of her hand, keeping her head bent far back, far enough to keep her from moving, from fighting him. Her eyes darken even further when he begins to move her hand up and down his length, never breaking her gaze as he uses her fingers to bring himself temporary relief, uses them to rub him exactly the way he needs right now.

“You _will_ be begging for this before the night is over,” he declares and, not giving her the chance to argue, leans down to claim her lips, releasing her hand in favour of running his nails along the edge of the bow tie around her throat, gripping the knot and twisting when she tries to dominate their kiss. When breathing becomes a necessity, he leaves her lips smarting with one last nip and bends his head to explore her throat instead, placing little bites along the red lines his nails have left behind. Helen arches against him, and there’s that breathy moan he loves so much.

“Never,” she breathes into his ear, and he can feel her smirk against his cheek at the way his cock twitches in her hand at that. “You’re far too eager-”

But she doesn’t get to finish, because that smirk and that tone push him right over the edge and Nikola is so very done with their game and the concept of restraint in general. Hands on her hips, he turns Helen around, taking control for good. Judging by the way she leans forward and bats her eyelashes at him over her shoulder, that’s exactly what Helen has been aiming for; that woman can be so very annoying! Nikola glares and spanks her ass, hard, enjoys the surprised widening of her eyes. She attempts to straighten, obviously not done fighting yet, but he takes hold of her neck and pushes down, spanking her again and again until she finally closes her eyes with a moan and gives in, bending over the desk low enough to rest her weight on her forearms.

Having won this round, Nikola releases her neck to mold his hands to the taut curves of her now reddened ass. With the suspenders digging into his palms, he trails the edge of the garter belt with his thumbs as he takes in the picture Helen presents. The bow tie is hidden from view now, except for a glimpse of black at her neck where part of her hair is still held up by pins. Garter belt and fuck-me-pumps, on the other hand, are highlighted by the contrast of black against white skin and, breathtakingly, so are the black lines he discovers at the back of her legs, running up from her pumps to the top of the stockings and making her legs look longer than ever.

“Are you done staring?” Helen teases, and he looks up to find her knowing eyes watching his expression closely.

“Never,” he gives back, moving his hands lower until he can press his thumb between her legs and run it along her slick folds, the heat of her reddened skin paling in contrast to the heat between her legs. He rubs her slowly, languidly, never once pressing deeper. If she’s allowed to tease, then so is he. Redness flushes her cheeks and her tongue slips out to lick her already glistening lips. Nikola allows himself a victorious little grin, sensing a ‘please’ is quite near, but it’s short-lived.

“If that’s supposed to have me yearn for more...”

That’s it. With a growl, Nikola presses close, a hand to her neck pushing her cheek down on the table while he prepares himself with the other. If Helen thinks provoking him is the best way to avoid having to beg, then maybe it is time to find out if she can handle what she’ll get. Her hands grip the table’s opposite edge on instinct, leaving faint damp outlines behind that fade quickly, and Nikola fits perfectly against her as she spreads her legs, the pumps affording her the perfect height to be taken, hard.

“Fina-”

He takes hold of her hips and cuts her off, turns the word into an appreciative moan that welcomes him as he sinks into her, slowly but surely, until he fills her completely. The relief of finally being enveloped by her heat has Nikola pause for a second, but the need returns with a vengeance and he starts moving again, setting a harsh, needy pace. He’s done with slow, and Helen’s breathy voice spurs him on, demanding “more” and “harder!”

He complies. He’ll let her have this, demanding wench.

Everything after will cost her at least a ‘please’.

~~~

Desks, as it turns out once again, aren’t particularly comfortable to rest on, especially when the mind-numbing pleasure slowly fades and leaves them breathless, sweaty, and increasingly cold.

“How about we continue this somewhere else?” Nikola suggests, still slightly out of breath, and kisses Helen’s neck, trails the soft black cloth with the tip of his tongue. Her skin is hot, slightly salty, and it awakens memories of another taste he has gone too many days without. Arousal rapidly rekindling, Nikola straightens and helps Helen up, not about to waste anymore time.

“What did you have in mind?” Helen asks, gathering her clothes. Her voice is an honest to god purr and it leaves him weak-kneed but very determined. After hastily straightening his own clothes, Nikola helps Helen with her jacket. He has yet to figure out how she can look so damned poised while getting dressed right after they’ve had sex in her office, the perfect ‘awkward moment’ situation. Or in the library, for that matter, the elevator, the kitchen...

“Bedroom. We wouldn’t want anyone to come by and hear your sweet begging.”

“You wish!”

She’s laughing at him, but Nikola just smirks. He has plans, long-term. Plans best talked about in private, preferably in front of a crackling fire, with a glass of wine in his hand and a soft fur for Helen to kneel on while she listens closely to what he has to say. Because Nikola is good with words when he wants to be, and he really wants to see Helen squirm on that fur in those stockings, heels digging into her skin right next to the suspenders, bow tie brushing against her cleavage in time with her restless movement as he teases her further and further with carefully chosen words.

“I hope you remember how to beg nicely. If you find the right words, I might even be willing to refresh your memory of how talented I am with my tongue.”

Dark eyes meet his own, a glistening tongue wets puffy red lips, and the next moment he’s pulled into a hard kiss that leaves him speechless.

Challenge accepted!

**Author's Note:**

> As always, comments are very, very, very welcome! :)


End file.
